


Confronting Seven

by StarlingHawke (Bowm8935)



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Canon has been slightly altered, F/M, Swearing, and some angst, showers always lead to interesting times, well there's smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 05:58:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8566627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bowm8935/pseuds/StarlingHawke
Summary: MC/Reader confronts Seven after being awake when he confesses his feelings/etc in that early morning session when he thinks she's sleeping.I toyed with the canon timeline a smidge to make this work, but not a lot. :)





	

The water is hot, the temperature just below what your skin would consider too much. It pounds on you mercilessly, the high pressure feeling like a cheap substitute for a massage, every drop setting your nerve endings alight with sensation. Steam fills the bathroom, fogging up everything from the mirror to the shower door to the small window situated awkwardly above the shower.

It is just how you like it, especially when you feel so frozen inside.

Sitting on the bottom of the bathtub, you have your knees pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around your legs and face buried as you sob, rocking back and forth in your grief. The water continues to pour down your head and back, sliding down to mix with your tears and washing them away. You learned long ago that crying in the shower was the best way to hide your breakdowns; as long as you didn't wail too loudly, the sound of the water hitting the different surfaces around you would drown out your sobs, and the extra moisture in the air would help keep your eyes from becoming noticeably swollen. In the past, this saved you from having to deal with concerned family and friends, an effective way to not need to explain things before you were ready.

Today, you're just hiding.

You understand why he was saying such awful things to both you and the other RFA members. He's a secret agent; of course his life is supposed to remain empty. He’s just trying to protect everyone in the only way he knows how. You've read enough books and seen enough movies to have at least an abstract idea of what that means. But the knowledge, however logical, doesn't help restrain the torrent of emotions coursing through you; no, if anything, it makes it _worse._

He had been so cruel yesterday in everything that he had said, his words like barbed icicles being shot straight through your heart. With every jab it felt like another piece of you broke away, floating down a river of despair that you couldn't travel alone and survive. That had been hard enough, and you had went to bed emotionally and mentally drained, your insomnia keeping you awake long enough to instill paranoia about the bomb and the guy with the bleached hair again, and your sleep had been riddled with nightmares.

Then he had snuck in, thinking that you were asleep.

He was half-correct in his assumption; you _had_ been asleep when he came in, but you woke the moment he started speaking, when he placed his hand on your bed so that his fingertips brushed lightly against your arm, sending fire through your veins. You’d always been an extremely light sleeper, not that there was any way he could have known that. Curious what he had to say that he couldn’t say while you were awake, you had laid there in silence, keeping your breathing even and doing your best to remain relaxed. It had been very difficult once he confessed it all; his feelings, his regrets, how he knew he’d have to hurt you again. Before he left, he had leaned over and brushed some of your tangled hair out of your face, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

It had taken every ounce of your strength not to start crying then and there.

The water starts to cool down, and you are frustrated to find that you cannot turn the handle any further to keep it hot. Doing your best to stem the flow of your tears, you stand and do a final rinse of your hair, shutting off the shower before you will be pelted with cold water. Stepping out of the shower, you grab the towel you set out, drying your hair partially before wrapping it around yourself. Stopping in front of the mirror, you lift a few fingers to wipe away some of the condensation, staring at your own tired face as you try to arrange your features into a somewhat neutral expression. Though he had been asleep when you snuck past him, it wouldn't be surprising if he is awake now. The man barely slept.

You open the door, silently cursing the tiny squeak of protest it gives at the movement, slipping out into the hall. The apartment is still dark, the only light coming from the screensaver flashing across Seven’s laptop. Tiptoeing past where he has set up his little nest, you think that you are in the clear when he finally speaks up.

“Having problems sleeping?” His voice is still low from sleep, and you hear a yawn following the question. “I hope I wasn't being too loud out here.” There’s a scuffling sound before a head pops into view, the light from the computer illuminating enough to see how cute he looks with bedhead.

“I… no, that's not why I’m awake,” you respond cautiously, inching toward your bedroom. He's not awake enough to be cold yet, and while a part of you wants to take advantage of that and talk with your friend, the fact that he recently hurt you causes you to shrink away.

He blinks owlishly at you, yawning again as he shrugs, sinking back into his pile. “Okay. Goodnight then.”

You bolt into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you and letting out a muffled sob. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you fight back the tears, refusing to let him have that kind of power over you. Moving slowly to the dresser, you pull out a clean pair of sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, biting down on your tongue as you move your hand away from your mouth to get dressed. As you pull the shirt over your head, the sadness starts to subside only to be replaced with anger. Dropping onto the bed, you grab your hairbrush and start to drag it through your hair, working out all the tangles before plaiting it to the side.

No, this won't stand.

You jerk up your shorts before marching over to slam open the door, not caring one bit about the alarmed shout the action elicits from Seven. Storming over to where he is sitting, hands dropping from the glasses he just put on, you throw your hands on your hips and glare down at him. “Why did you kiss me?” you demand, lips pursed, feeling a vague sort of triumph when he freezes.

“Wh-what?” he stammers, eyes wide in shock as he looks up at you.

“You asked if you woke me. You did, just not by being noisy out here. I heard everything you said to me, Luciel Choi, up to and including you kissing my forehead. Why? Why did you do that?” Much to your displeasure, your voice breaks on the last word, your anger dissipating as you watch him struggle with what to say next. He has always been your weakness, ever since you first met him in the chatroom; you two had hit it off immediately, trolling and laughing together, though you showed a serious side more often online than he did. Now that he is here, all he seems to have is a serious side. But you don’t care about that; you are flat out in love with the man. “Why… how can you say those things, claim to feel that way, and treat me the way you do?” Desperately trying to blink back the tears that threaten to fall, you look away from him, focusing instead on the light coming from the laptop. “I can’t fucking stand this. I can’t… I’d rather be alone with the bomb than go through this torture!”

He says your name quietly, and you look back to see a horrified expression on his face. He stands up, dragging a hand through his hair in distress, and you can see him trying to formulate an argument in that genius brain of his, but you don’t want to give him a chance.

“You say you’re just going to fix the system and then leave, disappearing into the distance without so much as a goodbye, have a good life, see you later! Well, you know what? _Fuck. That._ If that’s how you want it to be, then just _go_. Get out, I don’t want to see your fucking face anymore!” You’re no longer able to stop the flow of the tears as they run rivers down your cheeks, and you gesture wildly toward the door to emphasize your point.

Golden eyes meet yours and for a moment you glimpse some of his raw emotion; pain, betrayal, disappointment. “I… I can’t leave yet. I haven’t fixed the security system,” he argues, though it is weak and his voice trembles slightly. “You’re not safe yet…”

“I don’t fucking care!” you shout at him, causing him to flinch as the volume of your voice increases. “Just **go.**  I can’t handle being in the same apartment as the man I’m in love with while he treats me like I’m yesterday’s garbage, worth nothing, to be thrown away at the first opportunity.”

He moves before you have a chance to process it, his hands clamping down on your shoulders and his eyes staring into yours, full of an intensity you don’t understand. “No,” he says firmly, his grip becoming painful as he holds on despite you trying to push him away. “I will not go until you’re safe. I can’t give you what you’re looking for… it’s impossible.” His voice becomes sad, and you pause in your struggles, hands still against his chest as you listen to him. “Everything that surrounds me… They are all things that will disappear from the temporary life made by the secret agent named 707. My house, my cars, RFA, _you_ , this place, everything. One day they will all disappear like the morning fog. A real life, real things I can have… don’t ever think and hope those things can exist. My life can’t embrace anything… you don’t know how if feels to live that kind of life.” He releases you suddenly, backing away with his eyes on the ground. You catch a glimpse of tears, and immediately you’re filled with regret. You have been so caught up in how it all feels for you that you haven’t taken a moment to consider how _he_ feels about it. Biting your lip, you reach out for him in hopes of offering some comfort.

“No!” he says harshly, jerking away from your touch. “Don’t be nice to me when you don’t know anything. Keep on hating me; that’s easier. Just hate me and leave me alone. The person you like is the 707 in the chatroom,  _not me!”_

You feel your heart breaking for him, but you’re not ready to give up yet. Launching yourself across the space between you two, you latch onto him, burying your head into his chest and locking your arms behind him. He stiffens at your touch, his hands grasping your arms and trying to tug them loose. “Let go!”

“No,” you reply, tightening your grip. “No, you're wrong. I love both the 707 in the chat room, and the man here with me now. Help me understand you!”

“D-don't say that word,” he pleads, his hands dropping from your arms to rest on your hips. “You don't get it. I want to give you everything, but I can't. My life was wrong from the beginning, and I'm a dangerous man! What would you do if something happened to you because of me?”

You hear his voice crack on the last sentence and you pull back slightly to look up at him. Just like you, he has tears streaming down his face, golden eyes big and round as he watches you. Letting go of him, you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, smiling wetly at him. “I will gladly handle anything that happens to me, as long as it means that I get to be by your side.” Standing on your toes, you raise your head, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. After a moment, you lower yourself back down, staring into eyes filled with shock and wonder. “Nothing will move me from your side, because I love you, Luciel Choi.”

It is then that his restraint breaks completely, and he ducks down to kiss you hungrily, his hands on your hips tightening as he pulls you closer to him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you give as good as you get, deepening the kiss as much as he allows you to. He licks around your lips once and you open without hesitation, letting his tongue enter to explore your mouth. You gasp when he bites down on your lower lip, licking it to soothe it when he lets go. One hand reaches around to your lower back and he tugs you flush against his body, only the thin layer of the shirt separating your skin from his. You can feel the hard planes of his body against yours, and it causes you to moan into his mouth, making him kiss you even more desperately.

Breaking apart to breathe, he touches his forehead to yours, breaths coming in shallow pants. His hand comes up to caress your cheek and he lets out a breathy laugh, but it’s far from a happy sound. “This is… I shouldn't let this happen. I'll just hurt you. No good can come of this. I've always accepted that I'd live an empty life, but… I find myself wanting you to remember me if I disappear. Isn't that strange?”

You reach up to place your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers before pulling them down to kiss them. “It's not strange at all. I'll always remember you, Luciel.” You hear him swallow at the proclamation and you smile into your joined hands, pressing another kiss against his fingers. “I don’t care about getting hurt, I just want you to give this, to give _us,_ a chance. Please, let me be in your life.”

He digs his nose into your hair, breathing in deeply before answering. “If God allows it, I’ll always have you in my heart.” His free hand comes up to your chin and he tilts your head up, leaning back down to kiss you again. You feel yourself melting as he tries to pour all of his emotions into that one kiss, and your knees buckle beneath you. “Whoa,” he says softly, his lips still against yours as he catches you, hands moving down to hold onto your thighs. He lifts you up, most likely meaning to set you back on your feet, but you make a split second decision and use his hands as leverage when you jump up, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly. He gasps at the movement, but tightens his grip, his hands moving to cup your ass and hold you in place.

The kiss changes from sweet to something more in an instant, and you tangle your hands into his soft, wild red hair, tugging him to try to get even closer, pressing your body against his in an effort to have every bit of you touching him. He comes willingly, lips now pressing bruisingly hard against yours, and you moan when his tongue enters your mouth again, yours joining his in an intricate dance meant for just the two of you.

He nips at your lower lip before pulling back to press a kiss to the side of your mouth, moving down your jaw to your neck, littering your skin with kisses along the way. You arch forward at the sensation, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access, and he takes advantage of it, biting gently on his way down. Small sounds of pleasure escape from you and it encourages him to bite down harder at your pulse point, eliciting a sharp gasp followed by a low moan as he licks the reddened spot to soothe it.

“Luciel,” you groan, digging your hands further into his hair when he places kisses followed by bites along your collarbone, each nip sending shivers coursing through your body. “Oh god, don't stop.” He drags his teeth along the side of your neck and you shudder, causing one sleeve of your shirt to fall off your shoulder onto your arm. He shifts his grip on you, one hand coming up to brush your braid off the newly revealed skin, immediately biting your shoulder. You toss your head back, letting out a whine and grinding down on the erection the slight change in position has revealed to you.

He lets out a low growl and whips you around, pinning you against the wall. His lips crash back on yours as he returns the favor, slowly rolling his hips into you, drawing many noises of want and need from deep within you. “Don't start something you don't want to finish,” he says, his voice low and thick, the huskiness in it magnifying the desire you have to feel every inch of him pressed up against you, to feel him _within_ you. He follows his warning up with another bruising kiss, all gentleness gone as he slides his free hand down the side of your thigh tauntingly.

The heat already coiling in your belly grows hotter and you pull back enough to reach down and grab the hem of your shirt, yanking it over your head and tossing it to the side. His eyes travel lustfully down to your breasts and his breath hitches in his throat, emitting a low whine at the sight. Leaning back forward, you gasp at the feeling of your nipples brushing against his bare chest, the action sending sparks skittering across your skin. “Make me yours,” you whisper into his ear, biting the shell teasingly.

If there is anything left holding him back, it falls away in that instant. “Hold tight,” he growls, and you lock your arms around his neck as he stumbles down the hallway and into your room. He sets you down gently on the bed, crawling on top of you and leaning down to kiss you breathless again. When he breaks away he has a wicked grin on his face, and you bite your lip at the sight, watching as he places kisses down your neck and your chest, working his way lower until he latches onto one pert nipple. You arch your chest into his mouth with a loud gasp and he chuckles, his tongue swirling around the nub, flicking and sucking it while a hand reaches up to rub the other. Your hands go back to his hair as pleasure ricochets throughout your whole body, setting every nerve on fire and making you want _more_.

He switches to lavish attention on your other nipple, and you let out a long moan, writhing under him. You can feel his hard cock brushing up against your leg, the soft fabric of his pj pants the only barrier between it and your skin. You trail a hand down his back, letting it curve around his hips to grasp his shaft through the pants, and he lets out a choked sound before sitting up quickly, grabbing both of your arms and pinning them above your head.

“Not yet,” he whispers, moving so he holds both of your wrists with one hand, dropping his hips to rub tantalizingly against your center. You thrust up against him, chasing the feeling as he pulls back, smirking down at you as you pant and whine in need, squirming to try to free yourself from his grasp. Looking around, he leans over to grab a discarded jacket which he pulls up to your wrists, letting go momentarily to fold it and uses it to bind your wrists together, tugging you to move up on the mattress until he can tie it around part of your headrest, waggling his eyebrows when he sits up to observe his work.

You cock an eyebrow at him, a smile ghosting across your features as you see the proud look on his face. “Resourceful,” you comment, impressed that he had taken a simple jacket and used it to adequately restrain you.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, he surges down to kiss you roughly, his hands roaming along the sides of your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Secret agent, remember?” he jokes, moving slowly down your chest, kissing and biting your sensitive skin until he reaches your shorts. Catching your eyes, he raises an eyebrow, an unspoken question in his eyes. You nod without hesitation, his fingers hooking into the waistband and tugging them down and off your legs. Now fully naked in front of him, a hint of self-consciousness creeps in and you fold in on yourself as much as you can before he places his hands on your hips, anchoring you to the bed and gazing at you in wonder. “Gorgeous,” he whispers, awe apparent in his voice, and you feel the blush rise in your cheeks at the simple statement. He places a kiss on your belly before moving down to nip at your thighs, dragging a finger lightly down your slit and nearly causing you to fly off the bed at the sensation. “You’re so wet,” he murmurs, glancing back up at you, golden eyes dark and blown wide with lust. Your breath saws in and out of you at the sight of him lowering his face, his tongue flicking out to lick your clit before he places his lips around it, sucking hard. You arch your back off the bed as the pleasure rolls over you in waves, gasping out his name as he thrusts two fingers inside of you, curling them to brush over the sensitive spot inside.

You feel yourself jerking and twitching as he continues his ministrations, and the pressure builds inside as you approach your climax. You open your mouth to try to let him know how close you are but only a moan comes out, broken as you gasp for air when he thrusts his fingers in again, adding a third this time. He must know what’s approaching, though, as he changes his tempo to set a faster pace, his tongue doing things you’d never felt before until he finally lets out a low hum against your clit, and the vibrations are what send you careening over the edge, shouting his name. He continues to pleasure you, drawing out your orgasm for as long as he can and lapping you up before he sits back up to look at you with a lopsided smile, licking his lips. Sliding back up your body, he leans down to kiss you again, and you return it eagerly, roughly, all teeth and tongue as you try to communicate that you still want _more_.

He groans when you wrap your legs around his waist once more, grinding against his erection as hard as you can while in the position you’re in. He bites your lip, growling, and you strain against the jacket to try to release your hands so you can tangle them in that hair again. Or maybe you want to drag your nails down his back...you’re not sure at this point. All you know is that you desperately want him inside of you.

It takes all you have to organize your thoughts into a coherent enough pattern to manage to voice what you want. “Luciel,” you wheeze out, your voice hoarse and throat sore, but in a good way. “I need you in me.”

He makes a noise in his throat, maybe a groan, maybe a whine, you’re not sure. Burying his face into your neck, he places a few kisses there before he responds. “I want to… but I don’t have… I didn’t bring…” He seems unable to finish his sentence, but you think you know where he’s going with this.

“Top drawer,” you whisper and he pulls back to look at you, surprise written on his face. You nod to the bedside table, trying to hide the smirk when he reaches over to pull out the condom, confusion giving way to excitement as he shoves down his pants, his erection springing free from the confines. You lick your lips unconsciously, watching as he prepares himself before coming back to hover over you, weight supported on one elbow as he brushes some loose hair back out of your face.

“Are you sure?” he asks, giving you one more opportunity to back out, to tell him to stop. You don’t need it. You lift your head to capture his lips in a kiss, whispering a simple “yes” and feeling his mouth curve into a smile. He kisses you back, one hand traveling down to cup your breast, rubbing the nipple before he thrusts in, completely sheathing himself in one go. You feel both of you shudder at the sensation, the friction as he pulls back out only to slam back in maddening. He moans out your name as he falls into a rhythm, thrusting in and out, in and out, variating between leaving bruising kisses on your mouth and biting your neck. You meet him each time he drives in, noises of pleasure tearing from your throat as he pounds into you. You try to angle your hips differently and he notices, pausing for a moment to change positions to pull your calves up onto his shoulders. Before continuing, he leans forward and releases your wrists and you immediately reach up to grab his hair, yanking him roughly back down into another kiss as he starts to move again. The angle is better now, and you gasp and moan and keen at the sensations caused by his cock hitting all the right spots, feeling yourself coming upon another orgasm. Your hands move from his hair to his shoulders and you dig your fingernails in, crying out when his thumb starts rubbing circles on your overly sensitive clit. It doesn’t take much before you see stars, this time screaming his name as you slam your head back onto the bed, arching your hips up to meet him, hands dropping to fist into the sheets beside you. He’s biting his lip but keeps going, and when you start to come down from your orgasm you reach up behind his neck, twirling some of the red hair around your fingers and pulling him down to moan, ‘I fucking love you, Luciel,” into his ear, smirking when his hips stutter, signalling that it was his turn to cross the threshold. He groans your name as he comes, crashing his lips back into yours.

He pulls out, sitting up long enough to pull off the condom and toss it in the nearby garbage. He rolls over to collapse on his back, chest heaving as he stares up at the ceiling with a starstruck smile on his face. You scoot closer to him and he slings an arm over your shoulders, pulling you into his chest and nuzzling into your hair. You rest your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and breathing as they gradually slow down, grinning as happiness washes over you.

His other arm wraps around you and he pulls you on top of him, placing a kiss on top of your forehead. “I think it’s time we go to the space station,” he mumbles sleepily, his voice far more cheerful than you’d heard it be in days. “Although maybe we should wait until after we get some sleep.”

You chuckle, snuggling into him and pulling a blanket over you two. “Yes… first, sleep, second, space station. Sounds like a plan,” you agree, looking up to see his eyes closed but the smile still present on his face.

"Stay with me?" he asks nearly inaudibly, but you can hear the hesitation and fear he's trying to hide.

"As long as you'll let me," you promise, and he kisses your hair once more before sighing happily. You drift off to sleep with a new sense of peace, because you know that with him at your side, you can face anything the future has in store for you.

**Author's Note:**

> Corny ending alert, corny ending alert...
> 
>  
> 
> ~*~  
> Did you like it? Did you love it? Did you... *gasp* hate it? Let me know! I'm always open for reviews, comments and helpful criticism.  
> I'm here to grow. :)
> 
> You can also find me on Tumblr as [cutiesaeran](http://cutiesaeran.tumblr.com/) or twitter [@MysticHawke](https://twitter.com/MysticHawke/)!


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